Checkmate, bro
by Hagne
Summary: A minimis quoque timendum. Like their motto said, you should not understimate any creature, not even her, a muggle, ruling out her chance to become the main chess piece in a Magical war. Because she was no fool pawn. No brave knight. But The Queen. And who, like her, knew how to play chess, it was obvious deducing what the outcome would have been. Who, in the end, would have won.
1. Chapter I

Hermione Jane Granger had always been a composed person.

She did not gasp. She did not wince. She was never caught by surprise.

She was flawless, she _had learned,_ to be flawless, ready for everything, _for the worst_.

Because mistakes weren't allowed, _forgiven,_ not when they could cost the life of your loved ones, something she could not allow, afford, bear, _no,_ she could not afford to be found unprepared, defenseless, at a disadvantage, _she could not,_ because she was in a war, and Death Eaters did not care about her young age, her adolescent features or the childish flush of her cheeks, what mattered to them was her blood, her _filthy blood_ that made her unworthy to use magic _, to be alive,_ so when she felt the soft touch on her shoulder she should not have been so startled, she should not have gasped or winced as she did, _s_ he should have been ready to react appropriately, to act calm.

 _To be still._

She should have _,_ but she could not prevent her instinct to get the better of her logic mind, stiffening the muscles of her back while turning around with a fierce light in her eyes, the tip of the wand hidden in her pocket pressed painfully in the side of the young, smiling woman who had just approached her and that now was staring back at her with a raised eyebrow, the irises hidden behind the odd aviator glasses she wore enlightened by an amused glint that made her look like crafty, lazy cat.

\- And a good morning to you too, love.

Even before Hermione could let the horror scratch her eyes and make her lips tremble, warm, thin arms had already hugged her form tightly, washing away from her face the trail of a dismay that was going to break her self-control, a hug she returned with a small smile for the childish habit that her muggle friend and neighbor had always had since childhood, a familiar act that brought to her eyes shiny tears the young witch tried hard to swallow along with her struggle.

Too shaken to act properly, _normally,_ she let the girl pull her by the elbow on the comfortable chair of the little cafeteria where she was waiting for her, still too unstable to be able to do something else apart from following the young teenager's swift move.

And it was only when she took her seat on the opposite side of the table that Hermione allowed herself to look up again and finally, to speak.

\- You dyed your hair again.

A light chuckle left the pink, full lips that Alexis Mary Jones turned into a sly smile when she heard the couple to the next table gasp as they saw her long and sleek pink hair turning into electric blue locks that the young girl brushed with her nails before placing her sharp chin in her palms, smiling prettily to her best friend.

\- Blue had always been your favorite color, right, Mia?

\- What ar-

\- Nanomachines. Do you like it? I can turn my hair purple if you want.

Hermione blinked a couple of time before returning her gaze to Alexis's expectant expression, almost as she was waiting for some kind of praise from her for her display of unbievable skills, just as when they were little, something the smart girl did not usually seek from others.

And things to praise there were many, it was just that Alexis did not care about what others thought of her except who she believed to be worthy of her affection and her time, a statement that could mislead people on thinking that, maybe, she was a little too cheeky and arrogant for her own good, but Alexis was much more than what people could ever imagine.

Her friend was indeed cheeky and arrogant, sometimes childish, sometimes wise, sometimes so mean to be almost cruel, _inhman,_ but she was also very kind, loving and fiercely protective with the people she cared for, a fondness that left Alexis's face as she pursed her mouth into a thin line when the waiter she _had not_ called noticed them, focusing his attention on Hermione before looking up at her and stiffening, reading in her raised eyebrow an invitation to advance with what he probably thought was a handsome smile, an intrusive attention for which Hermione stiffened a little in her seat, her eyes once again on the shaky hands she tightened to recompose herself and act more as she should have, as Alexis knew her, composed, invincible.

 _Perfect._

But a honest smile really tug the corner of the young witch's mouth when she heard the usual playful voice of her muggle friend get annoyed and low, a biting hiss between clenched teeth that made the poor waiter pale and Hermione smile more sincerily this time.

\- Did I call you, pal?

How could such a common nickname sound so offensive on those pretty lips was something the waiter failed to understand and accept, but if her words had made him took a hesitant step back, the cold and odd eyes she focused on him when she brought her aviator glasses on her blue head made the waiter swallow words Alexis did not give him the time to utter when she 'shooshed him with an annoyed move of hands.

\- You are foolish as well as rude to interrupt me when I try to teach you some manner, but I will let it slide, as I will let slide your pathetic approach towards _a minor_ who is _obviously_ before your reach – and this time her already mordant voice seemed to drip poison before recovering her bored tone once again - so you go back to whatever you were doing and did not interrupt me and my best friend while we bond, Am I clear?

\- Crystalline – was the dry answer the waiter gave her with a tight smile, giving them his back before

retreating into the kitchen where he would have spat in her drink.

' _A crazy bitch_ escaped his lips as he reached the front door, but it was with horror that he heard the _crazy bitch_ shout at him " **the worst you could ever meet"** as answer to what Alexis shouldn't have heard, not from so far, not without magic, but when Hermione notice the pretty, metallic earrings on her friend's ears, although Alexis hated earrings with a passion, all she could do was smiling with pride and a little of amazement.

\- Your new invention?

The harshness that had made her soft features look sharper and darker left Alexis's face at once, her eyes softer and her voice warmer as she reached for the tip of her ears, brushing the cold metal with her short black nails.

\- Do you like it? You would be able to hear even if you were deaf since birth.

\- They are pretty, very feminine.

\- Are they? – mused Alexis with a distant voice, smiling a little when she met the pretty hazel eyes of her friend – I am happy you like it. I was not sure if they were suitable for a child.

Hermione welcomed the honest confession of her friend with a frown, her hands now more steady on her lap.

\- I didn't know the Cern had found prodigy children beside you.

\- They did not – Alexis answered without even blinking, placing her chin on her palm with a relaxed smile – I met a kind kid in the hospital the other week-

\- Hospital? – Hermione interrupted her with an alarmed gaze, reaching the hand Alexis had left on the table while the young witch's worried eyes scanned the soft features of her face in search of scratch or cut.

Because, since childhood, since the quiet kid who lived next door had promised her to become her best friend even when death do them apart, Hermione had always been worried and concerned about Alexis, or, to be more specific, about her rashness and recklessness, not that Alexis was foolish or clumsy, actually, it was quite the opposite, because if Harry thought of her as the brightest witch of their times, then her friend was the smarter muggle you could ever meet in your lifetime, and she was not exaggerating or being kind just because she was her best friend.

 _Alexis was a genius,_ a prodigy child, and it was not an idiom or an alternative way to say that she was very acculturated, she _was_ a genius, her IQ made her one, the international qualifications she had gained at such a young age made her one, the fact that she was _just eighteen_ years old a _nd_ the youngest and brightest scientist of robotics and nanotechnology in Europe made her one.

Therefore, as every self-respecting scientist Alexis had done experiments, she had invented and discovered things, the worrying fact was that she had always had the bad habit to do experiment e _ven_ on herself since she was a child to test her theory, and the proof of how reckless she had been could be found in the color of her left eye.

Alexis had inherited the pretty green eyes of her mother, but if you looked closely at Alexis's irises, you could notice that the left one wasn't really green, but of a darker shade, a warm cholocate that made people marvel if she was born with heterochromatic eyes, a rare case that made people stare a little too much and for too long, but that one wasn't a case that had occurred, but something that Alexis _had created._

Alexis had always had the same, pretty green eyes for all her life, or at least, until she had decided to make her left eye took the same color of her best friend's iris, so to be one of her eyes and look out for her in the future as she had read in one of her books, but when Hermione had heard Alexis's kind but silly idea she had thought of it as a joke, a bad one, she had not expected something _like that_ , but that little act had shown her that Alexis was indeed full of skills, but even that she lacked common sense and boundary.

She had always done what she wanted to do because, since she could do it, she would have done _it_ as Alexis had said many times to explain herself and her rash actions.

She had changed the color of her left eye at eleven years old with the chemicals recipe and some tools she had found at her prestigious European school to have with her something of her only friend.

She had used her clever mind to create an algorithm to win the lottery, giving to their old neighbor a million dollars because she always brought them chocolate cookies, and she _loved_ chocolate.

She was studying at the Cern as a researcher, fabricating high robotics prosthesis to give to soldiers who had been wounded in war.

Alexis was a genius, someone who could really change the world and make it better, fairer.

She was someone Hermione had wanted to protect and to emulate for all her life, someone too precious to be lost, someone who had to be protected, and she would have protected her friend, her first, friend, from the horror of her world, from who would have hurt her to hurt her, that one was the reason why, when Alexis asked her about school, Hermione said nothing.

Nothing about the incoming war.

Nothing about her role as Harry Potter's best friend and shield.

She said nothing.

To protect her _. To protect her family._

To shield her from a wicked world it was her duty to save, to face as a magical being.

As a witch.

\- Don't fret Mia, I am fine, just a little scratch.

Shaking her head to free her mind from her dark thoughts and worry, Hermione looked at the light scar on her wrist while Alexis soft palm patted her hand in a reassuring way.

\- So those earrings are for her?

\- Yes, the poor thing was deaf since birth, she was visiting her sick mom.

\- So? – asked Hermione, confused about how those facts could lead Alexis to give away such a fine and probably expensive piece of robotic to a girl she had just met.

\- So she gave me a candy as an apology when we collided in the corridor.

\- And?

\- I like candies.

Trying to understand Alexis's strange way of thinking was a difficult task she had never stopped trying, even if it was quite difficult to label Alexis, to follow her unique way of thinking, of acting, to follow the trail of her thoughts.

She could be so childish sometimes to look almost naive, but if there was something Alexis wasn't, then, it was being naive, because Alexis could become mean when she wanted to, almost cruel and sometimes, even merciless.

Her emotions were raw, dry, just like the ones of a little child.

She acted on instinct, she could be quite reckless, stubborn as well as wise and understanding.

She had no shades, no middle ways, for her there was only black and white, but despite all that, Hermione loved her fondly for loving her so much to be able to soften her edgy character, just as soft were the eyes the girl sharpened a little when she noticed a cut on Hermione's temple she did not remember.

\- But I don't think you called me back in England just because you want to see my new haircut, right Mia? - she asked nonchalantly, leaning lazily on the chair, her hand still closed around hers, her lips lightly bend into a pensive line - Is everything ok? Trouble at school? Can I be of any help?

 _Easy._

Hermione kept on repeating the word to the throbbing of her heart, a small smile to conceal the worry that was eating her inside, because Alexis's senses were sharp, her eyes attentive, her mind too clever not to notice her discomfort, but what worried her the most was Alexis's fierce protective instinct towards her.

Because Alexis could be the sweetest person she knew, but she could become scary, wicked _, obsessive and savage_ with who she did not like, with who bullied her or dared to threaten her family, especially her friends, and if she had known about the incoming war, about her role as the best friend of the boy who lived, then, she would have jumped in right away in her defence, and she could not allow something like that.

 _Alexis was a muggle._ She was her friend. Her family.

She had to be kept out of it. Of the war. Of her problem.

It was her responsibility, not hers, _she was the witch_ , she was the reason why Death eater wanted her and her family dead, and she could not bear it, _to lose her._

She had to do what she had to do, even if it meant to betray her friend's trust, but it would not have mattered, because soon Alexis would not have known to have a magical friend as a neighbor.

So she faked a serenity she didn't feel, she tried to be strong, to be brave, just to protect her.

To keep her safe.

To keep her _alive._

\- I wanted to see you, is it wrong?

Leveraging on Alexis's absolute trust and unconditional love for her was unfair, maybe even cruel, but if a little lie could save her from the horror of the war, then she didn't mind to be unfair.

To be cruel, for once.

The grip on her hand softened, and when Alexis called back the waiter to order two chocolate after making him drink them first to test him, Hermione decided to memorize every single moment, to store every single smile in her heart, so to use it for the darkest day of her life, when she would have returned to Howgarts for her sixth year.

They spend almost two hours talking about their childhood memories, about themselves, their hope, their plan for the future, and only when Alexis's back was turned to her the young witch allowed her lips to tremble and her eyes to water, wielding her wand with a trembling hand as Alexis stopped on the opposite side of the road, waiting for the traffic light to turn green.

No one noticed the flash of light on that sunny days, the only thing out the ordinary was the crying teenager on the sidewalk who had just run away with pain clear in her broken eyes but the hope to have saved her friend from a cruel destiny, however, when the taxi stopped in front of Alexis, the young woman did not get in the car.

She stood stone cold on the hard ground, her back stiff, her limbs lifeless, but if her body did not betray the turmoil of feelings that made her lips twist and her gaze harden, there was the growing snarl in her throat to warn the world and the startled bus driver who had just tried to approach her that it was better not to mess with her at the moment.

And she kept on snarling through all her journey.

She growled at the Stewart when he asked her if she wanted water on her plane.

She kept on growling and hissing between clenched teeth while waiting for the car that would have brought her back to the CERN, where Hermione thought she was studying, but there were many things her best friend didn't know about her.

About her research. Her knowledge of _magic._

Because Hermione had cast a spell on her, a spell she knew, _she could recognize,_ because what her friend didn't know was that she wasn't studying only robotics or nanotechnology, she had not been experimenting only on them, but even on magical artefacts, _magical being,_ a secret many did not want to give away for obvious reason.

How could she tell her magical best friend that the reason why the muggle world and especially Europe had not taken actions or measure against them was that they had _already_ them, that they had _her_ to thought about it?

Humans, _muggles a_ s the wizard called them, weren't a pacifist race.

They were not wise, they were not understanding, they were coward, merciless, and they did not like to make the same mistake twice, to underestimate something that could become dangerous for them, and a crazy dark wizard who talked about the purity of his kind and the need to c _lean t_ he word from the presence of the unworthy ones was something they had already seen, something they had already faced, something they could not allow to deal with again.

\- Welcome to the Glass Palace.

Alexis ignored the smiling, pretty hostess at the entry when she reached the door of the tall building she had just entered, her eyes still hard, her lips still twisted, while her feet led her towards the hall, reaching the elegant elevator where another pretty hostess greeted her with her plastic smile, asking her if she needed help, but when she lifted her head she could see her smile broke a little when she recognized her.

\- Welcome back Miss Jones. How did your free day go?

\- We both know you don't really want to know about my day, Sasha, so spare me the small talks and let me pass. I have things to do _unlike you._

The blond, beautiful woman tightened the smile to the harsh tone of the young lady who stared at her with her eyes devoid of any emotion, a flush of shame to color prettily her cheeks while Alexis clicked her tongue to vent her annoyance, something for which she saw the hostess step back a little, as if she feared her reaction and moves, _as she feared her_ , a eighteen years old with a scowl.

Nothing out of ordinary, _nothing to be scared of,_ but despite her young age and the obvious power and influence that the people of that shiny building possesssed, everyone in that elegant palace, from the higher stand to the lower one feared her.

 _What she could do if bothered, if annoyed._

And the fact that, at the moment, she was both, wasn't a good thing, for no one.

A thin smile break the line of her lips when she saw the woman's fingers tremble a little when she reached the shiny buttons of the elevator as she entered it, but instead of one of them, the woman touched softly the panel beneath before a registered voice warned Alexis to cling to the bar to prevent to fall as she leaned with her back on the wall.

But she did nothing of that, she kept on smiling sharply at the woman she saw swallow slowly before the doors closed in front of her eyes and, instead of going up, the elevator began to go down where there should not have been anything except the hard ground.

However, when the door hissed in front of her annoyed look what she found was not ground, but a counter, a pretty woman with red cheeks who smelled of cinnamon behind it, and a red door behind her back.

\- Welcome back amore! How was your free day? – the woman greeted her, happy, apparently, of seeing her.

Well, she was the only one who was ever happy to see her.

\- Like shit, but thanks for asking.

\- I am sorry, amore. Can I be of any help?

Alexis smiled gently at the concerned woman as she felt the soft touch of the laser scan her body in search of something dangerous, of something wrong, out of place, chosing to change the topic to save Miranda from her bad mood since she did not deserve it.

\- How is your mom, Miranda?

\- She is well amore, she is well. Grazie – answered warmly the scented lady, thanking her for the concern, something few people were able to obtain from her in that place.

Truly, the previous receptionists had cowered in fright everytime they had met her eyes or irked her, but Miranda had learned how to win her favor, to be _on her good side_.

Everyone had a weakness, after all, and hers, as childish as it could seem, were sweets.

Candy.

Chocolate.

It did not matter what it was as long as they were sweet, and if they were handmade, then, she would have been the happier young woman on the earth, _and people wanted her to be happy._

Because, it was when she was not happy that bad things happened, that people get hurt or began to _disappear,_ because she was not a nice person as her best friend believed, but again, there were many things Hermione did not know about her life, about what she was doing, where she was s _tudying,_

Not that she would have told her anyway.

Her world wasn't suitable for a kind person like Hermione.

Her friend had a brave heart, a soft spirit, a gentle soul too frail to be able to take the cruel truth, that rotten world, while Alexis, Alexis could easily take the blow without breaking, without even batting an eyelid.

Because if the world could be a bitch sometimes, she could be a bitch most of the time.

She was someone you don't want to antagonize, someone you preferred to hold off, to keep on your side, even if doing it would have meant compromising with a teenager who was careless of what hardship people had to go through to satisfy her whim and tantrum, even if it meant to hire a famous Italian pastry as Miranda as the secretary of the NIF, even if for most people NIF rang no bell, but it was obvious, _normal._

After all, a secret organization could not be _secret_ if people knew about it, a secret that, however, for Alexis had ceased to be one when she had been called to an interview from a "prestigious European school" when she was eleven years old, knowing, however, who they were since the beginning.

What they wanted from her.

She had feigned ignorance at first, just to make them believe that she was interested in a secret society formed in the dark age with the only purpouse to find gifted being to keep the _balance_ between magical people and muggle, and who better than her was gifted?

 _Valuable_?

But then, just when her parents had excused themselves to get the car Alexis had thrown away her mask and she had done what she had wanted to do from the beginning.

 _Moke them_ , wasting no time to criticize their _sloppy_ security system, comparing the secret organization's name with the sound of a strange sneeze.

She had proposed them a cooler name, but when the well-mannered man with the whiter mustache she had ever seen had requested silence with a single move of one of his elegant hand from his affronted colleagues, he had piqued her interest.

So she had stopped to complain, to be unsuffarable, even if she was still appaled for their secureness in her joining them just like that.

Because, _seriously,_ how could they think she was interested in a group of people who could not even protect themselves and their data from an eleven years old?

Save the world? Keep the balance?

 _Not her thing._

She wasn't interested. The world could go to ruin and fallen to ashes for what she cared.

She would have contribued even to burn it herself if, in doing so, she would have protected her family, and she could do that on her own, thank you very much.

But then, the white man had opened his mouth, and Alexis had stopped thinking, had stopped feeling, becoming once again what she had been called as a child.

 _A robot-girl._

That one had been her nickname in her kindergarden, the opinion of her teacher, the view of who had met her eyes and found _nothing._

Alexis knew how difficult she had always been, even as a kid.

Childern, adult, even her teachers were scared of her, of her hard and focused gaze, her expressionless face, her flat voice.

They had compared her to a robot many times.

Expressionless, heartless, _soulless_.

A smart child, of course, but a child unable to smile, to show interest in something, to feel a _nything apart from nothingness._

Too smart. Too quiet.

Men were unable to accept what was different from them, and a child who thought and talked like an adult, who could solve problems not even the smartest dude on earth could solve, who asked questions of which no one knew the answers was disturbing.

 _Abnormal._

Her mother had cried every night for her, for the way people looked at her, for the way people talked about her, and she, even if mortified for that, had not felt sorry for herself.

She was fine alone.

 _She was smart,_ after all. No one had to explain things to herself, actually, it was the other way around, and people _hated that about her._

No one liked a know-it-all, after all, but suddenly, someone had decided to talk with her, and, for the first time in her life, Alexis had known that happiness wasn't only a chemical reaction in her brain.

Hermione Jane Granger was a pretty, smart child.

She liked to read, _a lot_ , just like her, and when the kid had presented herself in front of her door with the shy request to help her with something Hermione did not understand, then, Alexis had felt surprised.

No one wanted her help, after all, no one wanted to hear her flat voice at all, but when she had explained what the child had wanted to know in her bored tone, instead of a snarl, she had received a smile of gratitude, and more questions.

 _Her first friend._

Hermione Jane Granger had become her first friend, her first bond, someone who had decided to go beyond her hard gaze and cold manners, who had seen something good in her, even if she knew that she wasn't good in any way, just really smart, something others had begun to take as something useful.

 _Valuable_.

Growing up, in fact, people had wanted to have her as a student, as someone to show off, to bang in the face of another prestigious school all the time, but Alexis had always been a loner.

She was too smart even for the smarter course of the smarter school.

She got bored easily, she got irked quickly, and bad things happened when people took on her their anger and frustration just because they were as ignorant and stupid as a goat while she, she was always a step closer, _always the best._

It was not her fault if Einstein could be described as _dumb child_ in comparison to her, but _hey,_ even she had gone through some shit.

It was not easy to be the smarter kid, because if you were a nerd, even if the most intelligent nerd, you remained a nerd, and as such, even Alexis had been bullied. Discriminated.

 _Emarginate._

She had been on her own most of her life, she had _chosen_ not to settle for something less than what she had found with Hermione.

Trust. Loyalty. Unconditional love.

So she had studied at home with her mother, she had ignored the world that was not ready to accept and welcome someone like her, just as she had wanted to ignore NIF, but then, he had to _say that,_ and Alexis had agreed to what he was asking without blinking a second time.

Because Hermione's well being had always been one of her priority.

Therefore, how could she deny the chance to become Hermione's shield against humanity's madness?

She could not, not when she had a _magical_ friend people would have burned to a stick for a sick, passive-aggressive wizard who had gone batshit because he had been bullied and not loved as a child, _poor thing,_ a state that most of the people cured with an analyst and a soy-based diet without turning into a murderer who aimed at a genocide _, s_ o Alexis had been ready to accept anything to protect her.

 _If only Hermione let her help her as she wanted,_ growled her mind when she thought again to the way her friend had tried to _oblivate her,_ even if she had been almost cute with her clumsy attempt to lie to her, but it annoyed her to no end that Hermione did not want her help, that she did not ask for it.

Because even if she was cheeky, even if she was arrogant and moody, Alexis could respect authority, if she respected the one who had to be respected, and she respected Arthur, or, how people knew him and how he had presented himself when they had shaken hands, Arthur Pendragon.

 _Yes._ That _Arthur._

 _King, Arthur,_ a title for which she had raised an eyebrow and whistled, because no, she had not expected it.

Okay, so NFI's founder was indeed the infamous King Arthur, but despite the legend, he wasn't a golden boy, but a kind, gentle old man, just as Morgana had not been a bitch, but a kind witch who had loved her baby brother very much and maybe in a wrong way and Merlin had not been the bearded wizard with the ridiculous hat, first, he had not been even a _he,_ but a _she_ , but you knew, writer had always been a pack of misogynists fools, and they could not accept a woman who had balls even in the dark ages.

So she had stuck to the only rule Arthur had given her before entering NIF, the oath she had had to taken as one of his _knight._

 _Help only if they asked for help,_ and since Hermione had not asked for it, Alexis could only get angrier and darker with the passing of time, even if the chocolate bar Miranda had just given her lessened the murderous light in her gaze, _just a little._

\- Have a nice day amore.

Alexis waved warmly at the kind lady as she turned the knob while the familiar hissing of the machine covered the crumbling of the chocolate she kept on chewing between her teeth, ignoring the women and men dressed in black who, once recognized her, were smart enough to change direction and not try to cross her path, especially when she was so upset and annoyed to stomp her feet as a little child, an annoyance for which the man behind the elegant wood desk raised a white eyebrow, setting aside the fold of sheets as Alexis collapsed heavily on the comfy armchair in front of him, a pout to make her look more childish than she actually was.

\- I presume that your meeting with your friend had not gone well.

\- No shit Sherlock.

\- _Language._

Alexis pursued her lips at the scolding tone of the man in front of her, the one who called her like that, the one who _could_ talk with her like that, but she knew that Arthur was only trying to curb her anger and annoyance, to be the wise leader who needed to put back in line his undisciplined pupil.

\- She _lied_ to me – she whined as a little child, crossing her arms over her chest, her hair now a scarlet red that looked as bloodstains against her pale skin – she _casted_ a memory spell _on me._

\- She wants to protect you, my child. As I told you before, things in the magical world arent' going well. Darkness is upon us – Arthur stated in his mystical way, raising his other eyebrow when Alexis _grunted_ at him _._

\- Protect me? – she in fact spat with sarcasm, pointing her own fingers towards herself – _I_ don't need protection. People need to protect themselves _from me,_ not the other way around.

\- I have no doubt about it – he concessed her, chuckling a little to show his amusement - You are hard to handle even for me. And I have faced many hard trial in my long life.

\- You are damn right old man!  
\- _Alexis._

\- Do you prefer when I call you dad long leg?

A small smile touched Arthur Pendragon's lips when Alexis's mocking tone reminded him of his older sister Morgana, in fact, since the day he had met the young, hot-blooded child in front of him Arthur had often compared her with his older sister.

They were both gifted with power, intellect and a charisma that made people follow them instinctively and blindly, but just as Morgana, Alexis was too focused on keeping safe who she loved in her own contorted way to think about something else.

They were both too stubborn to listen to him, to let him take care of them, of his own safety, of his own problems.

They were bossy and wild, but Arthur knew how much love they could feel, the sacrifice they were willing to do for who they loved, how _far_ they would have gone for who they cherished, but unlike Morgana, Alexis was still a child, she was still too young to sacrifice her own happiness.

To face such a danger alone.

\- If you want, I can arrange a meeting with the council – he proposed her with a heavy sigh, smiling when he noticed the triumph in her expression – but you know how we work, Alexis – he added then with a severe tone – you know how complicated it is for me to decide when to intervene or not, the balance I have to keep.

\- You and your balance are going to make me nuts someday, King – Alexis grumbled irritably, crossing her arms behind her head while a lazy look took place on her face – You are the _King._ You are the one who decided what to do, in the end. So why don't you let me do something?

\- You know that we can't intervene, Alexis, the Ministry is already trying to…

\- To put their fingers in their own eyes as a dumb child! This is what those fools are doing! _Come on Arthur_! I can't simply stay here while people are acting dumb and allowing the "dark one" – and she quoted the nickname with her fingers and a sarcastic gaze – to kill children. If you give me the chance I can easily track him down and kill the crazy bat.

\- Alexis…

\- But what about my balance King, _hm?_ – she retorted with a raised eyebrow– I knew a couple of people in this place that would not have been happy to find me…well… _unbalanced._

\- Are you threatening me? – the man asked without even blinking or showing disbelief, raising instead his other eyebrow when he saw the young woman smiling at him _like that._

 _Like when she knew to have you in her clutch._

\- Threatening? _Me? Never_ – she scoffed with a grunt, smiling charmingly to the way Artur had just frowned at her when he realized that her mind had already taken a dangerous turn – I was simpling stating a fact, my King. Actually, I have a proposal for you.

\- A proposal?

\- Yes, a proposal.

\- Yours are never proposals, Alexis - he stated with a flat tone, making the child in front of him smiling more wickedly - Yours are always decisions already taken that you disguise as proposals to make other believe to have some kind of control over you.

A satisfied smile bloomed in her face for the way he had exposed her real purpose so quickly, but he knew her for quite some time now, he, just like Hermione, was always trying to understand her, to give a sense to her action, to justify her even when there was nothing to justify in her madness.

\- So? – Arthur invited her to finish her sentence with a light sign of tiredenss in his voice – what is this proposal?

The desk welcomed her elbows when Alexis reached the man who let her grab his hand quietly, a heavy sigh to leave his lips as he recognized the dark glittering in her impatient gaze.

\- What do you think about a student exchange program?

* * *

\- Give me one good reason why I should not kill the old fart on the spot and save us the trouble.

Arthur Pendragon did not flinch or show some kind of concern for the childish whine that the young woman lazily lying down on the chair next to his had grumbled under breath while he, with one hand, answered to the greeting of the American President and the Scandinavian Minister of Magic.

\- Because I am asking you not to do it, Alexis.

Blinking, the young girl seemed to consider his request as something she could do for real before rolling her eyes and giving up, grumbling under her breath unrepeatable words Arthur did not dare to replay in his mind, not if he wanted to keep the polite smile on his lips.

\- You are lucky that I like you enough to listen to you, King.

Smiling a little for the way Alexis had just given up for him her attempt of a surely savage murder, Arthur patted gently her head to show his appreciation, squeezing her shoulder as he stood up to greet the man his pupil wanted to _kill on the spot._

 _-_ It's been a long time, Dumbledore.

Alexis's chest vibrated hard under the laught that reached her eyes when she noticed the way Arthur had deliberately greeted the old man, with his back completely turned to her, so to conceal her form, preventing her to stick the thin cane she was biting beetween her teeth in the old wizard's throat, watching him gasping for air while she enjoyed the show on her chair, _they had to have popcorn around here_ she reasoned with herself, chuckling a little for the way Arthur had hit her knee, as sensing the dangerous trail of her thought.

Really, it was astonishing how well he knew her.

Few people were able to read her like that, to foresee her moves, to walk with her instead of running after her shadow, but her King was a clever man, he knew her too well not to expect her irritation and annoyance since s _he hated that place._

 _Those people._

Because, despite the white walls and marble floor, she could see through the purple lenses of her glasses the _blood_ that soiled the room.

And, if she wasnt' too bored to focus on them, she could even see it on the gloved hands that people were shaking with a polite smile behind which she knew they were gnashing their teeth.

 _Liar._

 _Murderer._

 _Coward._

That room was filled with humanity's worst offsprings despite the tailored dress and expensive porfumes and shoes.

She had already been there a few time, but only because she did not feel at easy knowing that Arthur was on his own with those people.

Not that she feared for his safety, they would have already found lying dead on the floor if she had suspected some foolish attempt to her King's life and Merlin would have surely created some kind of storm to scare them off.

Truly, NIF did not usually take part in that meetings, not if they thought that Muggle's democracy and Magic Ministries could manage alone their problem, not if the balance Arthur Pendragon was keeping from the old age was threatened by someone or something.

Their presence there was, in fact, the result of her nagging.

She had a _sked him t_ o take part in the meeting, she was the reason why her King was smiling so politely to the wizard she had read about, a man she did not respect as others in that room.

She had read his file.

 _Every magical being had a file_ in her personal archive, and she could still not understand how could such a man be so respected, so high in place and society despite what he had done.

He was a murder.

He was a liar.

 _He was the kind of man she liked to hear screaming in agony before tearing his heart from his chest, squishing it under the sole of her foot._

\- I appreciate your cooperation, Dumbledore.

The thin can between her teeth folded itself under the pressure of her incisives when she felt her jaw tightening for the gaze she could feel upon her head, for the eyes she met with her own when Arthur finally let her see _t_ he fool who had Mia's safety in his hand for years.

\- It's a pleasure to meet you, miss Jones.

\- Of course you are pleased to meet me, old man. _I am marvelous._

Arthur Pendragon let a light chuckle escaping his lips when he heard the pompous way Alexis was talking to the wizard to his side, his eyes focused on the way her legs began to swing on the arm of the chair, a sign that she was pondering something dangerous, because it was when she looked so harmless that bad things happened.

\- I had been already informed of your lack of modesty from the Scandinavian Minister of Magic.

\- Old Algot is badmouthing me? _What a surprise – a_ nd she deliberately raised her voice to attract the grey eyes she met with her own, smiling sharply to the man who had just begun to cough almost irregularly before looking back at the wizard with a grin - Ignorant people tend to fear what they could not understand, old fart.

\- _Alexis._

\- What? – she complained – he _is_ old and he obviously _farters too,_ right, old fart?

\- You are a strange child – the wizard conceded her with a raised eyebrow before noticing something dangerous flashing in her eyes, eyes he had already met a long time ago, when, in his foolish attempt to redeem himself and cleaning his cosciense, he had decided to save from the misery a young, promising boy .

 _The burning eyes of who had the power to bring the world to his knees without feeling a drop of pity in doing it._

\- Strange, cruel, you can call me the way you want – Alexis listed with a bored tone, the cheek cupped in her hand pulled by a smile that did not reach her eyes – But I can still look myself in the mirror and see something, while I doubt that someone like you had something to look at.

\- Someone like me? - the old wizard inquired curiously.

Arthur could feel it echoing in his mind, _Alexis's dark laugh,_ even if the young girl wasn't really laughing, even if nothing in her face moved.

\- Forgetful aren't we, old fart? Well, lucky for you I am a kind girl who rarely forgets what I read. Let me refresh your mind.

When Alexis crossed her leg, she did not want to be seductive, she just wanted to point out what people seemed to forget, what made the man in front of her the worst candidate for the role of Mia's protector.

\- You are a man who killed his baby sister in a foolish family squarrel. The wizard who had an affair with a mad man with whom you shared the s _ame horrific desidere_ to kill off every muggle that dared to cross your path. And, last but not less important, you are a coward who is letting small children taking care of what is _obviously_ your fault and your weight to bear. That is what _you are, w_ hat _I see_ , so you will understand why I will not shake your hand and say "nice to meet you", because it is not a pleasure to meet you. _At all._

Many would have shaken in anger for that words, and even if Alexis noticed the light trembling of the wizard's now pale knucles, she was not happy to see that the old fart was studer than she had expected,, but _well_ , he will crumble just like the others, she needed only more time to make it happen.

And when she saw the talking hat appearing magically in the wrinkled hand of the wizard who had recovered his cool, she knew that she would have had all the time of the world to _break him_ while a laugh escaped her and everyone in the room threw a bewildered look for the screaming hat Alexis took away from her head with an amused smile and the awareness that yes, _she was terrific in green_.

* * *

An old, popular dictum said that when the Devil fondled you, he wanted your soul _._

However, even if that same popular dictum did not specify what kind of appearance the Devil could have taken when trying to steal your soul and bringing you in Hell with him, General Schmidt could state with certainty that, if the Devil had chosen to come to earth and to show himself to humanity, then, he would have taken the form of the young woman who was waiting for him to hand her the authorization to leave NIF's ground and to do what she did best.

 _Wreaking avoc and giving him a headache._

\- So? Aren't you sad about me leaving, Schmidtty?

If he could have grunted, then, he would have done it, and quite loudly, but General Schmidt, high chancellor of NIF, did not grunt, or growl, or show some kind of emotion in his expression made of steel, he simply stared at the world and at the people who dared to meet his eyes of smoke with coldness. Hardness.

 _Equability._

He was a soldier, after all, _he had been in a war_.

His soul was as hardned as smoking steel and his heart was as hard as stone, and yet, the woman who was looking at him through the purple lenses of her aviator glasses with a thin smile could make his wrists tremble as not even the incoming of the Russian troops had done during the second World War.

But s _he was evil incarnate, a_ nd nothing, _nothing_ could make him think otherwise, not after all those years.

She could try to fool others with her petite figure and her polite smiles, but not him, _not his eyes._

He _knew_ what she concealed behind her lazy gestures and free attitude, he _had seen_ what the feminine hands she had interlaced behind her neck to hold her head in place were capable of, and he had learned what to expect from her.

A lot of migraines and _paperwork._

Stacks and stacks of paperwork to cover up her nocturnal raids with her crazy team as the reconnaissance tour of friendly neghborhood watchmen, but friendly neghborhood watchmen did not usually return home with corpses hidden in one of the base's basket of dirty clothes, not that General Schmidt had ever tried to discover if the arm he had glimpsed between the white sheets before one of the whistlig youngsters could throw it back in the basket belonged to someone who was _still_ alive.

No one usually questioned them and what they do _, not even him._

They had been chosen for that reason, after all, to do what no other could do, what _normal_ human being could not do for moral issues or a simple matter of humanity.

Be reckless. Heartless. Beyond the rules.

 _Beyond everything else._

They were who you would have called to do the dirty work, _the Viewless_ , who was there without you knowing that they were there with you, _that they were watching you all the time,_ that they were only waiting for a reason to act, _to keep the balance,_ even if there was nothing balanced in her gaze or mind, or in anything that belonged to the young woman in front of him.

-Here.

When the man handed her the sheet, an excited smile graced Alexis's pale face, but just as she tried to put it back in her yellow backpack, a hand covered her own, forcing Alexis to meet the hard gaze of the old soldier with her own.

\- Try to keep a low profile, Jones. You are going as a watcher, and _watching_ is the only thing you should do, am i clear?

\- Of course Schmitty, of course – the young woman cooed, giving a reassuring pat on his cheek.

\- _I am serious, child._

 _-_ It will be fine signor Schmidt, I will be with her.

A flash of worry darkened the stone gaze of the man when he saw the tall, blonde and gentle woman who was accompanyning Alexis trying to reassure him, but their secretary did not seem troubled by the Arthur's request to go with Alexis into a magical school full of Death Eater's offsprings ready to kill her on the spot just for being, well, a _muggle_ , she was actually looking forward it.

\- I still did not approve it. You should not go, miss Bianchi. It's too dangerous.

\- I am happy to help NIF, signore. And I am happy to be with dear Alexis.

\- See? _I am a dear_ – Alexis stressed with a cheerful smile, blowing a kiss to the gentle woman to express her appreciation for her kind words- She will be fine with me, so shut it and let me leave, Schmiddty.

\- _Low profile Jones,_ do we understand each other?

Alexis waved her hand in the air to dismiss his echoing words as she reached the door with Miranda on her side, stopping in exiting the room to look back at the man with a smile that send a wave of shivers to his spine.

And there he was, _the Devil_ who was foundling him to get his soul _._

\- Say ' _hi_ to the others when they came back from Bucarest for me, will you?

When the door closed behind her back, Miranda hesitated on her steps before reaching Alexis while throwing worried glances to the door behind which she had seen the old soldier jumping in his seat as he had just been biten by a snake before clinging to Alexis's arm in fright when she heard the _scream_ echoing in the aisle as they reached the elevator _._

\- What was that?

Patting gently her hand, Alexis pressed the button with a smile, joining Miranda inside the elevator while the door she had just closed was thrown open and old Schimdtty searched her with a wild look.

\- Are they not going w _ith you?_

Pity should have been what she should have felt in seeing the horrified look in the man's face once realized that her team would not have been happy to find her gone, _to have been left behind._

Because awful things happened when she or one of the members of her team was not happy, but well, let old Schmiddty handle them, she was late for her plane, after all.

\- _Have fun!_

* * *

\- Is something wrong?

When Harry's soft voice succeded on going beyond the physical barrier she had erected around her hunched form with her hair, Hermione could only take a deep breath before nodding slowly while her throat swallowed back the tears that were threatening to roll down her cheeks and expose her crying.

 _Her breakdown._

Because she was yielding.

She was falling, and the young witch did not know how to stop, that time.

Not the tears that she felt pushing behind the eyelids she had just closed not to let a single tear leave her eyes.

Not the heavy breathing that was crushing her chest, forcing Hermione to take long and slow intakes of air to calm down.

Not the trembling of a hand she tightened around the spoon Hermione forced inside her mouth to swallow down her cry of pain and frustration with the pumpkin soup.

 _Unfair._

Everything was unfair.

Her life.

Her destiny, the world where she _knew_ to belong despite her blood, a world that had always asked something from her every time, even when she had not been ready to give something in return for her staying.

First, her childhood.

Then her hope. Her sleep. Her peace of mind.

Hermione had run out of thing to give, to sacrifice, or so she had thought, hoped.

 _Mia._

A sob escaped her lips when the calling echoed in her mind, a reminder of what she had just sacrificed, what the magical world had claimed from her as a payment for another year to spend on his magical ground.

 _Her soul._

Because giving up Alexis had meant giving up even that, sacrificing who had saved her before Harry and Ron from the loneliness, who she had loved like a sister, like a family she had betrayed, she had abandoned.

And it hurts, _it hurts so much c_ ried her internal voice with a choking sound that escaped her lips while Dumbledore began to talk about the incoming war and the need to be strong, to face the darkness with bravery, to stand strong and united, but Hermione was tired of being strong, of being invincible.

Perfect.

She just wanted to curl in a corner and cry, cry until she had no voice to scream, until she had no tears to share, crying until she had run out of breath and strength.

But there she was, squeezed between who could not even imagine what she had had to sacrifice to sit there with them, _to be who she was_ , to do what they could do so normally to make her want to throw up.

\- I am glad to welcome a newcomer to ours ranks, she will help the elf in the kitchen, so let's give to Miranda Bianchi a warm welcome.

A row of applause echoed around her while Hermione kept on staring at her plate, deaf to Harry concerned voice and the stares she knew to have attracted with her silence and stilness, but she did not want to cheer, she did not want to applaude, she wanted to be left alone, just for a while, just for few seconds.

She deserved at least _that._

\- Now, I am pleased to inform you that we have been chosen from the Ministry as a tester for a student exchange program with a famous European institute. Therefore, without further delay, let's greet your new companion, I hope you will treat her equally. Please my dear, come forward.

When Hermione heard it, _when she recognized that walk,_ she thought to have gone mad.

However, when she heard it a second time, she could not help herself to take a sharp intake of air while the ticking of boots echoed in the surprisingly silent hall and the choking sound to her right made her aware that the new student had to be gorgeous to make Ronald choke with his own tongue.

 _\- Merlin's beard._

Harry Potter and every Griffondor who was staring at the petite, pink haired girl jumped at the way Hermione Jane Granger's head jerked up, her eyes wide and shining with tears as she surveied the new student with tears stuck in her throath and chest.

Black boots.

A cloak that was billowing around her lithe body in a mystical way.

 _She loved striking entry like that one._

And then. She met them.

 _Her odd eyes._

Thin, stretched on the corner, with long, dark eyelashes that could not camouflage the glint of madness and cleverness that had always made her the smartest person she knew, eyes that Hermione saw softening instantly in meeting the witch's trembling gaze while Alexis's mouth took a gentler fold and the young witch's lips parted to free a soft and incredulous whisper.

\- Alex?

* * *

 **Have you ever wondered about what a smart muggle would have done in the magical war? What could have happened if science and magic had collided?**

 **Well, I have, so this is my retelling of how things would have gone if someone had actually taken in hand the situation instead of letting small children taking care of a crazy wizard.**

 **I hope you liked the first chapter.**

 **It's a lot to take in, but we will soon deepen what NIF meant, the story behind it and Alexis's background. I am curious to know what you think of this chapter, so I will wait hopefully for your review.**

 **To the next chapter!**


	2. Chapter II

_\- Alex?_

The chance to recognize the owner of the voice from so afar and with so many people around was very small, if not inexistent, _but Alexis heard it,_ and when she catched her name in the quiet and trembling whisper, she began to descend the couple of stairs that divided the teacher's zone from the benches of the students with a smile, hopping like a cheerful tiny rabbit while looking straight in the shining eyes that Hermione blinked rapidly to free her eyelids from the tears she felt rolling on her cheeks.

However, the more Alexis advanced towards her table, the more Hermione seemed distressed by her approach, distress that the people seated with her seemed to notice too while a heated buzz began to fill the air as the nest of restless bees.

Not that Alexis was bothered by the whispering and the pointed fingers _, she actually liked them._

The curious gazes.

The moving lips.

The attention she was drawing on herself with each, confident step.

She could not blame them, after all.

How could not they look at her _?_

It was impossibile for her to go _unnoticed._

Not her overbearing presence.

Not even her bold attitude as she chose to shrug off the old man's strong voice that was ordering her to reach the Slytherin's table where she should have been _, where she should have sat,_ but no one could demand anything from her.

She was the one to take control.

To c _ommand._

Thus, she kept on advancing with confidence, even if Hermione's eyes did not smile at her as she had expected, making her frown darkly for the unusual outcome of her _wonderful_ plan as she shushed with an irritated move of her hand what Dumbledore was saying to her.

Could not the blasted old fart see that she was already busy?

Hermone was still crying despite her presence, after all, how could not she feel bothered by it?

Her magnificent entry should have been welcomed with a row of applauses and some whistles too, it wasn't a reason to cry a river, but just as she tried to touch her shoulder, a pale, male hand grabbed her wrist even before she could barely graze the wool of her sweater, shifting her attention on the tall, frowning dark-haired boy who was looking at her threateningly behind a pair of old fashioned glasses.

A threath Alexis would have dismissed as the recklenssness of a foolish teenager in full hormonal crisis if he had not done something as foolish as _that,_ because no one, _no one c_ ould come between her and her best friend without suffering the consequence of it.

Not even the boy who lived.

\- If you don't want to lose your state as the _survivor_ of an attempted murder _,_ you will let go of my hand in this moment, sweetheart.

After all the death threaths he had received since he was eleven years old, Harry Potter should not have flinched as he did, he should not have shuddered as he did, but there was something in the sickingly sweet voice of the young woman who was looking at him through stange purple lenses to make him flinch. And shuddering.

And almost letting her go, but bravery soon shone in his eyes when the image of Hermione's crying returned to burn in his mind, making him strenghten his grasp around the thin wrist with renewed force.

\- What do you want from Hermione?

 _What a brave boy._

Yeah, Alexis thought to herself with a light chuckle.

Brave, but too rush, _too emotional_ , a dangerous combo when you have crazy, rich, old men with great resources and high social positions who tried to kill you every other day instead of thinking about what to eat at noon.

Actually, Alexis found it hard to believe that the scrawny boy could get to the end of the day without being impaled by the angry teenagers she could hear hissing behind her back, but she _knew_ that the boy's so called _survival capacity_ wasn't something granted by magic _, by luck,_ but something the young woman who was sitting beside him had achieved on her own.

Hermione had always been a clever child, after all, and she had to be the reason why the boy was _still breathing, still alive._

She had to be the brain of the _Golden Trio._

The nickname still made her laugh as a psycopath inside, but well, between NIF and Golden Trio, it seemed that humanity could only think of ugly names for important things.

 _Now..now…no digression_ she chided herself, cocking her head to the side to have a better look at the foolishly brave boy that the world would have remembered as the _boy without an arm_ if he had not followed her kind advice.

 _What a well-mannered young lady she was, wasnt' she?_

 _Of course she was_ Alexis complimented herself, patting herself mentally, after all, she was _informing him_ about the consequense of his foolish actions _, s_ he was giving him the chance to be smart.

Arthur would have been _so_ proud of her.

No blood had been spilled yet, just as he had asked her, she was behaving _wonderfully, so_ why people didn't try to collaborate?

 _Hm?_

She was doing her best to be… _balanced,_ but despite her good intentions and kindness, the smart boy wasn't so smart as she had thought at the beginning, however, even before she had the chance to bend back _every single_ finger of his hand, something caught her off balance.

The hit with the ground was harsh, but not a breath or a complain left Alexis's full mouth when she found herself with Hermione completely wrapped around herself, the witch's trembling body a weight Alexis was happy to bear, every sign of tension gone from her face and limbs as she hugged her back with a smile.

\- Even when death do us apart, have you forgotten Mia?

Alexis's shoulder muffled the broken sob that was tightening Hermione's throat while a soft hand began to stroke her back reassuringly, Alexis's arms a panic room where the witch could break with the certainty to be unreachable from what waited for her outside.

Harry's worried and confused voice.

Ginny's concerned whispers.

Ronald 's foolish chocking.

The curiosity and piercing gazes of the hall.

 _The questions._

Alexis would have kept her safe from all that, just as when they were children, when the room seemed too dark, the night too silent, the loneliness too heavy to fight off alone.

Nothing could harm her until she was in Alexis's arms, _it was alright,_ becase she had not lost her.

 _She had not lost her._

A quite girglish heap escaped Ronald Weasley's pale lips when the hand he had just tried to stretch towards Hermione's trembling back was crushed by the short, sky-blue nails that Alexis sunk in the pale skin when the red-haired boy tried to free it from her clutch, but the more he pulled back, the more her nails sunk in his skin.

\- I _hate_ people who could not read the a _ir._

When Alexis let go of the hand of the foolish teenager, she didn't do it for compassion or because she took pity of his obvious mental disorder judjing by the way he was looking at her with a goofish, horrified gaze, but because Hermione was trying to stand up on her own, and she needed both hands to help her best friend on her feet, a beaming smile to welcome the teary eyes that the witch blinked a couple of time before the entity of the current situation fell on her with a loud crash.

Because, despite her relief on seeing her muggle friend again, the same muggle friend who was smiling at her should not have remembered her, _she should not have been there at all,_ not _a_ mong wizards, and above all, not dressed in those colors that made her lips curling up while the gears in her brilliant mind began to swirl and her fingers sunk in the soft black sweater that hugged gently Alexis's shapely body, with something very similar to hysteria.

\- What are you doing here?

The panicked voice echoed in the silent hall as the scared whispering of who had met the grim look of the Bloody Baron for the first time, but there was nothing frightening about the pretty black-haired girl who was now watching the Gryffondor's Head Girl with a frown, her full lips twisted into a confused curve.

\- You don't seem happy to see me, Mia. Why aren't you happy to see me?

Usually, Alexis's sulking and childish behaviour would have been, for Hermione, an adorable display of trust for which, usually, the young witch felt elated and proud.

Proud to be one of the few people with who Alexis allowed herself to be so open, _so emotionally vulnerable,_ a vulnerability that, however, the witch did not find so endearing now.

Not with all those people to watch them with curiosity and _suspicion,_ as they _knew_ that the frowing young woman in front of her was different, that she was not _one of them,_ a diversity that Hermione knew to be d _eadly,_ in her world, something for which someone would have killed her, tortured her, _just for who she was._

Soon, the panic turned in hysteria, the hysteria in horror, and when her eyes fell on the Slytherin's table, a gasp of horror escaped her lips when she noticed the way Malfoy's silver gaze had just narrowed on Alexis's back and how his comrades were already exchanging whispers and dark looks while watching them.

 _Alexis._

Alexis who was a muggle. The smarter muggle she knew, but a muggle neverthless.

 _A muggle dressed as a Slytherin._

If the situation had not been so nerve-wreking, Hermione would have laugh fot the absurdity of the situation, but Alexis did not seem really conscious of the danger, of how unsafe was for her to be there.

To _be seen with her._

\- You should not be here, Alexis.

 _The worst._

The day Alexis had waited with trepidation for so long, the day she had dreamed about so much was becoming a _nightmare._

Nothing was going according to the plan.

Hermione did not seem happy to see her as she had hoped, actually, she was so sick with worry to make the young witch shaking so much to not be able to stand properly, but for what reason, Alexis did not know.

Alright, _she knew why._

But she had already planned that.

Everything was ready, already organized in her brain.

She had even practised it in her mind as the rehearsal of a theatrical work.

Her explanation would have been clear and easy to accept without too much angst, since s _he hated angst_.

Hermione was an understanding child, after all, she would have understood why she had not told the truth about her job, her "school", her lifestyle, she would have accepted it, _her._

She was sure of that, and even if now Hermione was watching her with so much worry, concern and fear to make her shake like a leaf, she would have smiled after hearing her out.

 _Yes s_ he comforted herself, taking a deep breath to focus on the right words to say, the better way to explain to her best friend the reason behind her presence, the color of her robes, behind what would have happened now that she was there, now that she could protect her as she had always wanted, but just as she was ready to speak, someone anticipated her.

 _Someone who did not know how lucky he was to be still alive._

 _-_ Miss Jones, I will not repeat myself a second time. Return to your seat.

 _Ignore him._

Yes. Ignore him.

\- I know it's difficult to understand, Mia, but I -

\- Miss Jones.

 _Ignore. Ignore._

 _-_ I have a reasonable explanation, you know? Did you remember my school? Well, it wasn't really a …

\- Miss Jones.

\- It wasn't really a school, _yeah_ , it was a school, it's just that it is a _little_ different from what I told yo-

\- Miss Jones.

Alexis's jaw stiffened a little as her voice came out a little sibilant for the way her teeth had begun to gnash together, but she kept on ignoring him, the whispering around her, everything _but Mia,_ Mia who was still watching her with worry, Mia who didn't seem to really understand what she was saying, not with the damned old fart who kept on talking at the same time with her, confusing Mia and _pushing her to her breaking point._

\- But I-

\- Miss J-

Even before Dumbledore, just after banging his hand on the table to demand attention, could end the sentence or adjust the spectales on his nose for the sudden move, even before Hermione's brain could associate the sudden hiss of gears with something she could explain easily without blacking out, Alexis's arm had already left her side, reaching for the pale face on which the hall could see a small, red dot shaking on the forehead that Albus Dumbledore knitted in confusion while his eyes focused on what the young woman was aiming to him.

No more a small, pale hand with splindly fingers, no more sky-blues nails or a middle finger, but an intricate system of wires, sleek metal and hissing gears that, for who had seen a science fiction movie or had read a comic book about giant, robot warrior, resembled a robotic arm that Alexis stiffened along with her back when she felt the gasp and t _he sudden absence of Hermione's gentle hands on her._

And even if Alexis had not to be a genius to understand what it meant, even if it was _obvious_ of what the gasp was, she tried to deny it. Firmly _. Strongly._

Because it could not be.

Hermione wasn't scared of her, she could not be scared of her.

She was just confused, _she had not let her go,_ she….she…

 _She had just rejected you._

Such was the burning in her eyes that, for a moment, Alexis believed to have become blind, but her eyes were perfect, her sight was flawless, _and yet_ , she could still feel the burning that, instead of weakening, was getting stronger and spreading everywhere.

In her eyes.

In her throath.

 _In her chest._

A feeling she knew too well, a burning that usually preceded the coldness in her limbs, the emptiness in her eyes, the _bloodlust in her gut._

\- _Low profile Jones, do we understand each other?_

A little too late for that, Schmditty, Alexis joked darkly with herself, a cruel smile to make her lips twitch while her eyes lost the warmth and humanity she had forced in them to make her appear less threatening, less _dreadful_.

 _Unfeeling._

Unfeeling of the panic she could feel burst around her as she began to walk towards the teacher's table with her weapon aimed at the head of the powerful wizard who had just r _uined t_ he dream of her life.

Unfeeling of the calling of who Alexis could not look without grimacing, without spatting cruel words that would have hurt Hermione. Gentle, kind Hermione.

But what about Arthur? The small voice in her head whispered with a light scolding tone.

Yes. _What about Arthur?_

Arthur who was waiting for her report.

Arthur who would have been disappointed in her if she had broken her promise, her vow.

Arthur who would have scolded her, and Alexis _hated_ Arthur's scolding, too similiar to her dad's rebuke, that kind of reproach able to make her feel almost guilty, _wrong._

 _But she was never wrong_ rebuked another cold, metallic voice.

She was too smart to be wrong, to make mistake.

She was never wrong, just as she had not been wrong before.

Killing the old fart would have _really_ saved them the trouble, but death, for him, would have been a relief rather than a punishment, and Alexis wanted him to _suffer, t_ o take responsability for what he had done.

So no death for him, not yet, or at least, not until she had decided to put an end to it with her bare hands, but just as she diverted her mind from the image of his motioneless body on the floor, something else caught her attention, something she had not noticed before, too busy on analyzing her surrounding to s _ee_ something for which her eyebrows flew to the hairline in a thunderstruk look.

The aviator glasses fell on her chest as she bent towards the wizard to sniff him, _breathing deeply_ , filling her nostrils of the smell she knew _so well_ before returning on her feet with a stone cold gaze and a new awareness that made her realize that the d _ark times_ Arthur had talked about were darker than she had believed at first.

Much darker than she could accept.

\- _You stink of_ _ **her.**_

When the words left her frozen lips, something changed in his eyes, a flash of surprise that tensed his jaw while her eyes, as prickly as pins pinched every part of his face, dissecting every expression, every move, landing on the arm the old wizard had left on his side in a relaxed pose that could not fool Alexis.

 _ **He**_ _could not fool her._

 _Her eyes._

Because she _knew t_ hat smell, she had seen what was eating him alive, slowly, face to face once, when she had done what the dark wizard the magical world feared so much had _only_ tried to do without succeding.

 _Not like her._

After all, it was what she did better, succeding in what the world failed to accomplish, doing what no one could do, what _only her could achieve._

And as she let the nanomachines in her body altering her form while the ghostly light of her cannon lightened up her eterochromatic eyes, Alexis would have made the surprised wizard in front of her eyes, the gentle child she loved as a sister, and the people she would have shielded as Arthur's _knight_ realize that there was something far scarier than a pale wizard without a nose.

Someone far scarier than anything they had ever known or could dream of.

Someone who could do _anything_ and fear _nothing_ , not even _her,_ not even Death.

A Death Alexis had looked in the eyes at fifteen years old with the c _ertainty,_ that, between them, the abyss inside her soul would have been the bottomeless one in which making the other one fall _, drown._

* * *

Klaus Schmidt had never been a man easy to surprise or to intimidate, not even when he was still at war.

 _Non even when he was still alive._

And yet, since the man bathed in light who had saved his soul to repay him for his good deeds in life had presented himself with a child on his side, something had told him that his world and the one of his saviour, _his King_ , would not have been the same.

And he had been right, so _hideously_ right to hate himself for his flawless instinct.

Because, even after all that time, Alexis Mary Jones was still impossible for him to decipher, to _explain,_ to hate _w_ ithout loving, at the same time, her quirk and the hidden fraility that he and his King had been able to see just once, _but it had been enough._

A grimace twisted his usually stony expression when he seemed to hear it again in his head, clear as the first time.

 _Alexis's shrilling screaming._

And even if he would not have admitted it to himself, he had still nightmare about that night, _about her breakdown._

It had been unsettling for him to see her like that, to see how much pain a heart could contain.

How her cutting voice could become so small and _broken._

A pretty child with smart eyes, that one had been his first impression of her when the young child had been left in his hands.

His to form, his to train, his to guide towards a path that, more than once, the young lady he had learned to fear and respect had forsaken for one of her _shortcuts._

 _Shortcuts_ the man had never been able to take, an inability given by his limits, limits that Alexis had never had. No even one.

 _Too good_.

Alexis had always been too good at everything she had done. In any task he had given her.

Therefore, when General Schmidt had found the message on his desk, he had thought of a joke. _A bad one._

Because Alexis had _never_ asked for help, not even once, in truth, he doubted that someone was even able to help her, not even his King, the most powerful being he knew, and yet, no one could be so foolish to joke about that.

 _About her._

Too deep was the fear Alexis had instilled in the heart of who she had met in life to risk her wrath for fun, a wrath able to _hunt you_ like a plague that would have eventually hit so hard to make you want to die as soon as possible to escape it, _her_ , so, when the shock had subsided, Klaus Schmidt had reached for his coat, but not before squinting his eyes to read the small note on the footers that, again, had shaken him to the core.

\- Fuck you.

A grimace twisted his face when the _scum_ he was dragging with him in the thick, dark forest manifested his frustration in stumbling yet again on then s _ame_ blasted root.

Actually, General Schmidt doubted it was the same root, _perhaps._

They could be r _eally_ lost for what he could know.

Finding a dark, high castle should not have been so difficult, after all, not even in that darkness, but if the said dark castle was a magical school _no outsider_ was supposed to see, well, it could be a problem spotting it.

He could sharpen his eyes, or trusting his trained senses, or pricking up his ears, it would have never been enough, not if someone would not have helped him out, a help he suddenly received in the form of a strict, female voice in the middle of nowhere.

\- I am going mad.

Ignoring the man's hysterical whisper, Klaus waited for the voice to return, to guide him towards it, but instead of the voice, what literally reached him and his tensed back was a wrinkled hand that Minerva McGonagall brought back against her chest when the man, turning, met her eyes and closed expression.

\- Mister Schmidt, I presume.

\- You presume well, ma'am. I am –

\- That child's assistant.

General Schmdit could not help the annoyed curl that twisted his lips while a light chuckle behind his back attracted the old witch's hard gaze on the tall, elegant white-haired man that did not surprise her as it should have done, as Schmidt _knew,_ the presence of a new unexpected guest should have done.

\- And you had to be the _Big Boss._

 _That little brat._

Unlike his King who seemed quite a _mused_ by Alexis's little introduction, Klaus did not like to have been degraded as the little devil's assistant.

He was her caretaker, not her _subject,_ but Alexis had always failed to respect the hierarchy and their roles.

For her, he was simply a funny, old guy who wanted to play with her all the time while his King, his King was … how did she usually call him?

 _Oh yes._

Daddy long legs.

It was almost _rude_ to simplify such a historical figure as his King with that silly nickname, but as much as indignant Klaus might feel, Arthur Pendragon had never minded her quirks, actually, despite his neutrality about everything, he had always had a soft spot for Alexis.

She was his precious ward, after all, or, how Alexis liked to describe herself, his shield to use as a battering-ram to clear the path, and his sharp blade to stick in his enemies thick skulls.

Harsh words that hid a deep affection that Alexis, despite her rude manner and outspoken personality had always shown and declared for them openly.

The simply fact that she looked for them was a proof of how much she loved them since she _literally_ used to ignore her surrounding, people she did not care about, what and who she believed _useless_ for her.

So, under another's point of view, Klaus Schmidt should have felt lucky to be liked by her, and sometimes, when Alexis was behaving like the sweet girl he knew that she was d _eep, deep, deep down,_ he really felt lucky to be considered a part of her exclusive world.

 _Of her family._

However, unfortuately for him, the times that he was treated like the buffon of his King's court were much more frequent than the ones in which he was simply a funny guy who Alexis liked to hug in the middle of the corridor just because she felt like hugging him that day, melting him inside despite himself.

\- This way.

Without even giving him the time to collect himself and his thoughts, the old witch began to walk towards the darkness, sure that she had to say no more to make them follow her blindly, and indeed, his King had already begun to follow her while he, well, he could not move freely since he was slowed down by the scum Alexis had asked him to bring with him.

 _He._ Not his King. Alexis had requested his precense, _his aid_ , but just as Alexis considered Arthur Pendragon a common, worry-wart young boy she had to protect from his foolish spirit of sacrifice, his King considered his ward a frail child he had to protect like only an overprotective mother would have done.

 _He just sounded like her._

Grimacing for the offensive mental paragon and asking for forgiveness with his eyes, Klaus began to follow the path, holding back his breath like a fool child when, out from nowhere, a _real_ huge, dark castle showed himself in all his magnificence.

\- Don't tell me this is …

\- _Shut up!_

Yanking the magical chains on the man's wrists and throat to silence him, General Schmdit resumed his walking, frowning for the heavy aura that encircled the area and that seemed to thicken as they went further.

\- I had imagined it more cheerful.

\- Oh, it was indeed cheerful, Mr. Schmdit - Minerva McGonagall retorted without even skipping a beat or looking back at him, the ticking of her heels haunting in the empty corridors of the deserted castle.

\- But I fear that all the cheerlfuness had been lost the moment your ward had cut off the arm of Hogwarts Headmaster in front of his students.

 _\- She did what?_

Klaus wasn't used to raise his voice or to scream at all, but his throat began to burn after chocking those words, his hands cold for the rage that was going to squeeze his chest if he had not heard the quiet whisper to his right.

\- She had her reason, General. We both know how she works.

Calm and soothing like the gentle rain, Arthur's vocie echoed around them like a gentle whisper, but Klaus recognized _it_ , the edge tone in his quiet but strong voice.

A warning to not judje Alexis too quickly and too wrongly like others had done before him _, like who didn't know her,_ and despite it all, General Schmidt believed to know her. At least a little.

In truth, it was impossible to completely know her.

He was not his King. _No_.

No one knew Alexis like his King.

Their bond was an odd one, it always had been an odd one.

They could talk without actually speaking.

They could understand each other without even explaining themselves.

They trusted each other blindly, something Klaus could not to do so easily, not when he knew how _cruelly_ Alexis could behave, how _unforgivable_ she could be.

 _How deadly she could become for a whim._

Because _she was still a child, e_ ven if a powerful one, too emotional, too instinctive, but he trusted his King, and if he had said that she had her reason, he believed him.

However, if _really_ she had acted on a whim, he would have hidden her sweets _fo_ _r a whole week._

\- For one who hates laggard, you are more than a little late, Schmditty.

When General Schmidt followed the low voice up to the marble stairs that led to a long, dark table, he blinked a couple of time to readjust his sight to the pitch darkness of the hall they had just entered.

But, it did not matter how long he kept on blinking, or how much he kept on _hoping_ to be imagining it, the scene didn't change, it didn't get better, or less dark.

 _She was still there,_ seated on what he presumed was the Headmaster's seat with her elbow planted in the hard wood, her sharp chin sunk in her palm, a bowl of poc corn on her side and a ripped, _human_ arm in front of her bored gaze.

\- What have you done, Alexis?

The rumble of a thunder covered the crackling of the poc corn that Alexis finished to chew before filling again her mouth, rolling her eyes for the _horrified_ tone of her caretaker.

 _What a drama queen._

\- Me? Why is it always my fault, Schmditty? I didn't do a _nything –_ she grumbled sullenly, throwing a handful of popcorn towards the General who kept on looking at her with that _look,_ as if _she w_ as the one to blame.

\- Nothing you said? – Minerva McGonagall's horrified voice echoed in the hall like the cry of a wounded eagle, attracting the gaze of a still shocked soldier to the pale wizard _without an arm that_ the old witch reached with trembling steps before being caught from the elbow by a tall black-haired man who snarled when he felt the General's eyes on him.

\- Again with this story, Miss? – Alexis grumbled darkly on her chest, breeting deeply when she felt Miranda's hand on her shoulder, and she didn't want to scare the poor woman with her rage, she did not deserve it, not like that insufferable witch- I have already explained it. _I saved his life._

\- Saved his life? – the old witch cried out, outraged for the way the young woman kept on _lying_ despite the horrible things she had done _– You cut off his arm_.

\- _Excuse me,_ I cut off his arm to save his life. It's not my fault if the old fart was so _stupid t_ o let the curse spread so much.

\- Curse?

Despite what one could have believed , the one who whispered those words had not been the upset witch or the baffled General who, however, had noticed how stiff the black man had become in hearing Alexis's accusation, but the only one who had believe what the young, angry woman was spatting from the beginnnig.

\- What kind of curse, child?

Deflating like a balloon ready to burst, Alexis let the kind call of her King reaching her angry mind, soothing the headache that was beginning to become annoying while Miranda's hand squeezed her shoulder to calm her.

 _Thanks to heaven she had Miranda._

If it had not been for her and her poc corn with honey she would have already burned the caste to ashes with its foolish Headmaster.

She had been right, _he was not_ suitable to protect Mia.

\- The kind of curse you could only attract when you play with dead things. _Foolish man._

Alexis whispered the last words with fatigue, massaging her temples to free her mind and _thinking._

Thinking about what she _had_ to do, what she had to _fix_ because of him _._

\- The curse could not be erased. Not with magic, not with such a brutal and primitive act.

A thick silence followed the flat sentence that Severus Snape had just expelled from his cold lips like everything that left his mouth, with a cutting sarcasm able to make you feel stupid, and insignificant, _petty_ , but when the wizard met the eyes of the young woman who had brought havoc in his school, what he found wasn't what he usually received from others.

Anger.

Frustration.

 _Hate._

 _Disgust._

No. She wasn't looking at him with that kind of feelings.

She seemed almost _curious,_ a curiosity that persuaded Alexis to have a better look at the man who had just spoken to her with such a tone.

Tall and dark.

 _She already liked what she was seeing._

Pitch-black eyes were staring at her devoid of any emotion, but the snarl that twisted his long, thin lips, making him look more hideous than he was in reality, told her otherwise.

He was annoyed.

By her.

By the situation.

 _By everything around him._

\- And you are so sure of this because…

\- Because I have tried and failed.

 _And if I couldn't do it, no one else could._

He did not say it aloud of course, but Alexis could still hear it in her mind, she could read it in his eyes, eyes that despite what he might believe, were more expressive than he thought.

When he saw her moving, Severus Snape readjusted the hold on his wand, a movement that Alexis caught in the corner of her eyes and that made her smile a little while standing.

He wasn't stupid like the others.

He could see it, _the danger._

 _The threat she could become, a_ nd as Alexis reduced the distance between them with each, calibrated step, she could see him shifting his stance, getting ready _to strike,_ but she did not want to fight him.

She was just curious, really.

 _Beautiful._

Despite what other people could think about his sexual preferences or the fact that he could have _something_ with whom feeling physical attraction at all, Severus Snape could appreciate the beauty of things when he saw it, and when the young woman stopped in front of him, so close to feel her warm breath on his eyelids, he could only repeat with a flat thought that _yes,_ she was indeed beautiful.

A beautiful young woman who was challenging him with the strangest eyes he had ever seen.

Severus Snape had never seen heterocromatic eyes before, but something told him that they should not have been like that.

The dark one wasn't natural, its color was too dense, too deep to be natural, not forced, _mixed with something,_ while the lighter one was of a green so _hard_ to make him raise an eyebrow.

Green was usually a vibrant color. Not so sharp. _So cold._

Lily's green eyes had always been beautiful for him, soft, _warm_ , while the green of the young woman's eye was as hard as glass, with golden lights and dark spots around the pupil, a complex whirpool of colors where one could have drown, if she had wanted to, but Alexis was simply staring at him.

She was just reflecting him on the sleek surface of her gaze.

\- _How odd._ Yours are not the eyes of a Death eater.

When those words left her full lips, something changed inside him.

His stance stiffened, his gaze hardened, but when she noticed the way his hand had tightened in his robes, a _round his wand,_ Alexis took a step back, smiling apologetically.

\- Now, now, I wasn't bullying you. I was just stating aloud something that I already knew.

\- Something you know? – the wizard hissed darkly, tensing his jaw – You don't know _anything_ about me.

\- Sorry to disappoint you, handsome – and Alexis _loved_ the way he knitted his eyebrows when she called him _handsome –_ but I know everything about _everyone_. Right Schmditty?

\- _Show off –_ was the answer the soldier mumbled under his breath, but Alexis heard it anyway, and she would have smiled if she had not _s_ ensed the movement to her right, a shift of air that made her left her arm snap towards the open entry with the hissing of the gears to fill her ears once again.

\- I _hate sneaks._

Suddenly, the air that filled Severus Snape's lungs became hot, stifling, the hairs on his arms and neck raised up like if he had been striked by an electric discharge, and even if his body told him to step away, _to run,_ his feet did not move, nor his eyes left the strange occurence that had costed one of Dumbledore's arm.

 _Hot._

When one of the sky-blue sparks touched his cheek, the wizard could feel the warmth seeping in skin before disappearing like a snowflake melted in the sun, a spark his finger tried to clutch when the arm of the young woman in front of him turned into something he could not explain, something that could cut like a razor or burn like flames, the strange sky-blue light that emerged between the dark layer that composed her arm so blinding to make him narrow his eyes to keep on looking at her.

Oddly enough, even the color of her hair had changed, a deep violet had replaced the dark locks that fell to her back and that curled on her florid chest like hissing snakes.

What strange magic.

A shapeshifter?

No. He doubted it. A shapeshifter could emulate someone, it could not _create._

\- Show youself or this time I will blow your head, pal. I will not repeat-

\- _Wait!_

\- Potter.

Snape's caustic voice made the young wizard squeeze his eyes while Hermione threw away the invisibile cloak to run towards the young woman who, for the second time, found herself with her ass on the floor.

However, this time, Alexis was too stunned to wrap her arms around her best friend's back, not that it would have mattered, since the young witch had already hugged her with so much strenght to block her arms or moves.

\- What have you done to her!

Hermione's angry scream echoed in the hall like the dying cry of a banshee, so full of pain and anguish to make the ears bleed, but it was Alexis's heart what wringed painfully in her chest while the Gryffindor, turning her head, pointed her wand against the two men who _had to be_ responsabile for Alexis's change.

And maybe, Alexis would have laughed for the way Schmdit was looking at them, or the way her King's eyebrows had flown to his hairline if her eyes had not _recognized_ what the boy who lived was clutching to his chest while looking angrily to the Potion Master.

\- S _tupid boy!_

When Severus Snape saw her standing up so abruptly with a startled Hermione close to her chest, when he saw her _marching angrily t_ owards a pietrified Harry Potter with her strange arm still fuming, something began to burn inside his chest, something he did not think to be able to feel anymore.

And yet, it was fear what made his face ugly and his magic cruel, _unforgivable_ , but even before the curse could hit her or even touch the tip of Hermione's swirling curls, _even before he could understand what he had just done_ , something invisible but thick as glass prevented the red light to reach them, to do the irreparable.

Hermione Jane Granger fell to the ground with a soft thud, her face pale, her breath erratic, but the strong hand around her wrist prevented her to crumbling up on herself, to shut off for what had just happened.

\- You tried to hurt her.

Severus Snape did not know if he had shivered for what he had done or for the cold voice that echoed in the hall like the frosty breath of an Ice Giant, a chill he could feel sinking in his bones, crawling under his skin, crystallizing his eyes when she turned, when she let his reflex _drown_ in her eyes.

\- You tried to hurt _me._

The way she said it sounded almost like if she had expected it, like if she wasn't so surprised by it, and she wasn't, _really._

People tended to hurt her, t _o try to kill her,_ all the time, it was just that he had been slower than others.

 _So much slower._

\- I am a little disappointed, but I could not expect less from someone _with such a bad taste in tatoo._

Stung from her words, the Potion Master recoiled from the shock, pulling out his wand when Alexis changed target, leaving a still trembling Hermione to the ground with a soft caress on her hair, like if she was reassuring her that everything would have been fine, now that she was there, now that she would have taken care of it.

 _Of everything._

\- I think we should interve.

\- You can try, old friend. But I fear that your intrusion would only anger her more.

Oh, _he knew it,_ but General Schmdit was beginning to find the whole situation maddening.

It helped a little that the s _cum_ had fainted for the fright once recognized _her,_ but he was still concerned about the wizard's well being and _why_ they were there if she was able to take care of _everything_.

\- Mione?

When she felt the gentle voice above her head and the soft touch on her elbow, Hermione jumped in fright, but she let Harry take her in his arms neverthless.

They clung to each other with strenght, confused, disorientated, but when they felt a soft touch on their shoulders, they could only stare dumbfounded at the blonde, pretty woman who was smiling at them with sweets in her hands.

\- Chocolate?

Alexis's ears twitched like the ones of a cat when she heard the word _chocolate,_ but she dismissed the thought, she could eat the chocolate after killing the man in front of her.

 _Pity really,_ that he had to do something _so_ stupid.

Severus Snape.

Potion Master. Death Eater. War Hero.

 _Loyal lover._

The words were linening one after the other in front of her eyes like if an invisible pen was writing a summary of him.

Because, that he could believe it or not, she was not joking about knowing everything about him _, about everyone_.

You had to know _everything_ if you had to mantain the balance, and how could you mantain the balance if you didn't know _everything a_ bout the people who could change it?

He could not know it, but Severus Snape was an important piece on the scale plate of destiny.

A powerful wizard who could change the war, who could alter its end, if he wanted.

 _Really,_ he seemed a wonderful, elegant and intelligent man, someone she would have liked to know better, to befriend.

 _What a waste._

\- Since I hate rude people, I will introduce myself before killing you.

\- One more step, and I will be forced to stun you.

An amused laugh rumbled in her chest when he said the word s _tun w_ ith so much seriousness, as if he _really_ believed to be able to harm her.

 _-_ Stun me, handsome? I would have liked to be _stunned_ by you, really, but usually it is the other one who goes _down._

\- Mine is a warning, not a joke.

\- So it is mine.

Maybe, it had been the way she had said it, without the light smile with which she had spoken until now, or the way her eyes had become, if possible, darker, _harder,_ but when he saw her pinching with her sky-blue nails an invisible gown while bowing to him, her long, soft and curly hair a pool of black ink around her, the comical gesture disturbed him more than seeing her fuming arm pointed at him.

\- My name is Alexis Mary Jones. Eighteen years old. Sexually active.

\- _Alexis!_

Schmdit's outraged cry made her smile a little, but she kept on looking at the floor like a well-mannered lady, bowing deeply while her hands began to itch and her skin turned black, hard as steel, sleek as the feathers of a black crow on a rainy day.

\- The _best_ scientist of robotic and nanotechnology history had ever known. _Muggle._

At that, a couple of gasps were heard around her, but she knew that he had not been the one to gasp. Maybe the insuffurable woman. Or even the boy who lived.

But not him.

Not Severus Snape.

He was surprised. _Of course he was._ She could tell it by the way his breath had itched a little, even if only for a moment, a second.

\- Hermione Jane Granger's best friend. Arthur Pendragon's blade and shield. Head of the Viewless.

 _Master of Death._

And here it was. _The gasp._

Composed as he was, as were the eyes Alexis met when she raised her head, a smile to bend the full lips now covered by the mask she wore only for who earned to receive his death by the hands of her _true self._

\- People know me with many names, but if I have to choose my favourite, I would like you to call me with that one.

 _How beautiful._

With the silver light of her energy cannon to light up his strong features, Alexis could not help but to appreciate the man in front of her eyes once more.

Tall. Dark.

 _And fearless._

Of her.

 _Of death._

 _Of what was about to come._

A flash of surprise darted in her eyes when, suddenly, she heard his wand falling to the ground with a sickening clink, when she saw him _surrending_ once the wizard realized that all his curses, even the most terrible ones were being dispelled by something he could not even see like stones that a foolish child kept on throwing in the void with the hope to hit something, his shoulders relaxed as if she wasn't aiming at him a deadly weapon, as if she wasn't on the verge of killing him, as if he _didn't care_ about his death, his end, and it was that what changed her mind, what made her aim for something that was not his head.

Severus Snape fell to the ground without a sound, his knuckles white for the effort to keep his body above the ground where he _refused_ to collapse like a puppet, his bleeding knee planted on the hard floor without mercy.

However, despite his strong behaviour, he could feel his eyelashes getting wet.

 _He was getting old._

He had never cried since that night, _since Lily's death._

He had no reason to cry anymore. He had _believed_ to have no more tears to shed. But he had been mistaken.

 _Pathetic._

 _-_ And what can it be?

Blinking, Alexis cocked her head when she heard him speak, her eyes unreadable as Severus Snape raised his chin to meet her gaze from below.

Without fear. Withour anger.

 _Only tiredness._

Tired of the war.

Tired to fight.

Tired to keep going. _To survive._

\- Your favourite name. What can it be?

The way she came to kneel in front of him with a single, smooth move made him think about a lynx he had seen once during a snow storm when he was still training as a Death eater.

Powerful despite the small form, with eyes so bright to pierce the night and his soul.

\- _Queen._

Maybe he had died.

Maybe he did not.

 _He did not care_ , but if he had really died, then Death wasn't so horrible.

Because his Death had a beautiful face, strange eyes, soft, warm palms he could feel on his cold cheeks, and the smile of who was watching something that was worth to _spare._

\- You can call me _Queen._

* * *

Despite the light humor, the next chapters will be a little darker. I will explain the reason behind Alexis's strange form, and why she was so shocked by discovering some of the Deathly Hollows. Until the next chapter!

Thanks for reading!


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